


The Universe and Human Stupidity

by respoftw



Series: Infinity and Beyond [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Kid Fic, M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7137986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney blinked stupidly at Elizabeth. Well, not stupidly. He's the smartest man in two damn galaxies after all - nothing he does could possibly be classed as stupid - but right at that moment he could be forgiven for feeling a little slow because he could have sworn that Elizabeth had just told him that his son was going to be 'gating back to Atlantis with Major Lorne's team.</p><p>Rodney suddenly has to deal with the surprise arrival of his son on Atlantis, all while dealing with his problematic attraction to one John Sheppard who looks far too good with a kid on his hip for Rodney to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rodney blinked stupidly at Elizabeth. Well, not _stupidly_. He's the smartest man in two damn galaxies after all - nothing he does could possibly be classed as stupid - but right at that moment he could be forgiven for feeling a little slow because he could have sworn that Elizabeth had just told him that his son was going to be 'gating back to Atlantis with Major Lorne's team.

"A kid? _McKay's_ kid? I think we would have known if Rodney had a damn kid, Elizabeth." John's voice rang out in the shocked silence that had followed Elizabeth's announcement and Rodney grabbed onto John's disbelief and ran with it, nodding his head in agreement and pointing his finger in John's direction in shaky approval.

"Yes. Exactly. What he said." Rodney smiled weakly at John, in thanks for his back up, receiving a comforting nod back.

"Well, the village elders of PX-764 disagree." Elizabeth said, sounding irritatingly calm to Rodney's ears.

"OK," he huffed, "Well, I think I have a better idea of whether I had fathered a child or not than they wou- -" Rodney trailed off mid-sentence, John's accompanying "yeah" of support barely making it through the white noise of panic that was building in Rodney's head. He swallowed loudly. "Did you say PX-764?"

"Rodney?" It turned out that John's angry drawl cut through the white noise just fine. "What did you _do_?"

"What? Nothing!" Rodney blustered unconvincingly. "I most definitely didn't.. _y'know_..I know I'd remember that."

John glared and Rodney winced, turning to Elizabeth beseechingly.

"Look, Elizabeth. I absolutely, 100% did not knowingly engage in any actions that would result in, well, _this_. Not all of us are trying to be Captain Kirk, you know," he said, glaring momentarily at a still angry looking Sheppard.

"All right," Elizabeth agreed. "Let's say that, for arguments sake, that's true. You recognise that address Rodney. What _did_ happen there?"

"Well, there was that...glowy thing," Rodney said, internally cringing at how insubstantial it all sounded, even to him.

Going by the raised eyebrow that Elizabeth gave him and the continuing glare of John, nobody else seemed convinced by this highly scientific argument either.

"I believe that Dr McKay may be correct, Elizabeth," Teyla spoke up for the first time since Elizabeth had dropped her bombshell. "Colonel Sheppard, do you not recall the people of Andross requiring a boon of Dr McKay, Ronon and yourself?"

John frowned. "Well yeah, but that was just blessing some old piece of Ancient technology. It didn't even light up. There was nothing glowy about it."

"Well, it glowed for me!" Rodney interrupted. "Just because Atlantis rolls over for you doesn't mean that every piece of Ancient tech is going to do the same. Some of them have taste, you know."

"So, what? You're saying that stick thing we touched somehow made a baby," Ronon said, sounding like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Rodney didn't blame him, it did sound kind of ridiculous but then, since arriving in the Pegasus galaxy four years ago, he'd had to redefine the word "ridiculous" approximately 722 times.

Sighing, he collapsed on to a waiting seat. "Look, that's the only thing I can think of that could explain this. _If_ we even believe them in the first place. Who says this isn't some grand plan of theirs to foist some unwanted kid onto us, huh? Their very own spy on Atlantis."

"An eighteen month old toddler, Rodney? A spy? Really?"

"Well, OK, maybe not a spy but who says this kid is even mine? What proof do we have?"

Elizabeth had just opened her mouth to reply when the ringing alarm that signalled an off world activation rang out.

"Well," she said, "it looks like we're about to find out."

* * *

Major Lorne was the first to appear from the event horizon, clapping a congratulatory hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Mazel Tov," he said, grinning. "It's a boy."

Rodney shook the hand off his shoulder, his eyes straying from their spot locked on to the event horizon long enough to glare at the Major and, apparently, long enough to miss witnessing the arrival of Dr Parrish on Atlantis with the supposedly prodigal son.

It was John's slowly drawn in gasp of breath that alerted Rodney to the baby's presence. The noise drew Rodney's attention away from Lorne and he watched, fascinated, as the angry glare faded from John's eyes to be replaced with a soft kind of baffling fondness. Catching Rodney's look, John attempted a half-smile in his direction. "Well," he said, nodding his head at the 'gate, "I think we have our answer on whether he's your kid."

Confused, Rodney, followed John's nod to see a mop of blonde curls peeking out from behind Dr Parrish's legs.

So what, he thought, lots of babies have blonde hair. And so what if those curls looked uncannily like Rodney's own curls at that age. It's just a coincidence, it doesn't mean that this is his kid and - - oh crap. Rodney's panicked denials crumbled as the kid crept out from behind Parrish, his crooked mouth sloping gently downwards in displeasure in a way that unmistakably screamed "McKay".

In the instant before the first strangled sob filled the Gate Room, Rodney felt like all the air had been sucked from the room, felt like he was floating in a vacuum, unable to breathe, to speak, to move.

He had a kid.

He, Rodney McKay, was a father now.

_Oh crap._

The sudden sound of howling sobs were disproportionately loud when compared to the size of the lungs that were making them. They swept across the room causing Teyla to take a step forward towards the boy, her mothering instinct kicking in.

Rodney, who was realising he had no such mothering instinct, watched in a slowly building horror as Dr. Parrish crouched down in front of the boy, hefting him up into his arms and bouncing him gently.

It seemed like every set of eyes on Atlantis was on him, waiting for him to step up, to be a father, to do something.   _Anything_.

Rodney choked, his feet backing up automatically, his fleeing instinct kicking in. Locking panicked eyes with a worried looking John, he finally managed to gasp a breath of air.

Shaking his head, he continued to back up. "I can't," he whispered, "I'm sorry but I just..I can't." Rodney turned and ran from the room, ran from John's angry yell of "Rodney!", ran from Teyla's disapproving eyes, from Elizabeth's pursed lips and, most of all, from the wailing cries of a kid that he was in no way prepared to look out for.

This really wasn't where he thought today would end up.

* * *

It's hours later when John found him holed up in one of the more recently discovered labs off the south-west pier. He doesn't speak at first, just leans against the doorway, watching as Rodney pretends that he's working on something vitally important when the reality is that he's done nothing but spend the past eight hours compiling list after list of exactly why Rodney McKay should not be allowed to raise a child.

John's resolve caves in first, and the childish glee that Rodney feels for out-stubborning someone is reason number 112 on the aforementioned list.

"Carson ran some tests," John said, his voice loud in the quiet room. "They didn't tell us anything that wasn't obvious to anyone who had eyes but they prove beyond doubt that Dorian is yours."

Rodney doesn't react much beyond a tightening of his shoulders. Like the Colonel said, he had eyes, it wasn't really that surprising.

"That's his name, by the way." John continued, sounding angrier now. " _Dorian._ In case you care at all."

Rodney's back stiffens. Of course he cares. What the hell kind of heartless idiot does John take him for. This isn't about a lack of caring. But a kid needs more than caring, a kid needs - -

"His mother's dead."

Rodney drops the pad that he'd been scribbling on. It hits the table with a loud bang.

"The Androssians believe that kids belong with their parents. They believe that separating families is an insult to their Gods."

Rodney laughed bitterly. "Oh, what? But it's acceptable to mine DNA from an unwilling donor and bring a child into the world without his knowledge? How does that fit in with their wholesome family values?"

"Yeah," John scratches his hair lazily, "about that..you were right. The whole "boon" thing. Apparently your, ah, contribution was a gift from the Gods."

"Some gift," Rodney muttered.

John sighed heavily before crossing the room and hoisting himself up onto the desk that Rodney was working on, his legs dangling over the floor.

"What's the deal, Rodney?" He asked. "I'd like to think that I've gotten to know you pretty well in the past four years and I would never have pegged you as someone who wouldn't step up to the plate when he had to."

"Who says I have to now?"

"The small, helpless kid that's sitting,  probably terrified, in the infirmary without anyone to call his own. _That's_ who."

Rodney closed his eyes, squeezing them tight to try and rid his mind of the image of that small, curious boy ( _Dorian_ , his mind reminded him gently) so scared and alone.

"John," Rodney swallowed his emotions down as far as they would go, almost breaking at the warm weight of John's hand on his shoulder. "I don't know if I can do this."

John smiled, his hand gripping more solidly at Rodney's shoulder, squeezing the strong muscle there in a show of support. "You're Dr. Rodney McKay," he said, "I have it on pretty good authority that you can do anything."

Rodney choked out a laugh at that, aware that it sounded more hysterical than anything else.

"And you won't be doing it alone, Rodney. We're all here for you. You _and_ Dorian. Teyla, Ronon, Elizabeth, Carson, me." John grinned. "Hell, I think half of Atlantis is already besotted with this kid. It was almost enough to make me ask Carson to run the damn tests twice."

Rodney glared at him, causing John to grin even wider. An annoyed, blustering McKay he could deal with.

"Come on, Rodney," he hopped off the desk. "Let's go and meet McKay Jr." Rodney looked terrified at the prospect and John's heart hurt for him. "It'll be fine," he said in a lower voice. "We'll all be be there with you. What do you say?"

John knew Rodney was made of sterner stuff than most would think. Four years of working with the man had proven beyond a doubt that the scientist deserved his place amongst the bravest soldiers that John had ever served with. Watching Rodney square his shoulders, pick up his pad and take a deep breath, John was reminded of that fact once more.

"OK," he said, "let's do this."

* * *

John's complete faith in him boosted Rodney's spirits from the moment they left the lab, all the way through the short walk and transporter ride, right up until they reached the infirmary.

Faith in himself wasn't something that Rodney normally lacked - hell, most people would agree that he had too high an opinion of his own abilities. Facing the prospect of sudden fatherhood, Rodney found himself wavering in that self-belief.

As if sensing his hesitance, John reached over to squeeze Rodney's shoulder, his eyebrows raised in a silent question, asking if Rodney was ready while simultaneously letting him know he wasn't alone.

If Rodney hadn't been so busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd probably have wondered just when exactly he had realised that he could understand John without the need for words.

"I'm ready," he nodded decisively, squared his soldiers and pushed into the infirmary.

_"Joh'!"_

Rodney halted, staring blankly at the small boy ( _Dorian_ , his mind chimed in, _your **son**_ ) sitting happily on Carson's lap, surrounded by a laughing Ronon and Teyla, holding his arms out in excitement as he and John walked in the room. John smiled apologetically at him, his mouth twisting up at the corners in embarrassment as Rodney gaped in astonishment.

His kid had been in Atlantis all of five minutes and already, he was head over heels for Colonel John Sheppard, wasn't that just perfect?

He tried very hard not to listen to the small part of him that whispered "like father, like son." He'd gotten pretty good at ignoring that particular part of himself over the past four years, although the sight of John grinning widely as the boy ( _Dorian, call him by his name goddamnit_ ) jumped into,his arms, wrapping his chubby fists in the ridiculous mop of spikes that John called a haircut, was testing every ounce of his control. If he were a woman, he could at least blame the way his tongue dried out and the way his belly fluttered on hormones; but he had to admit, even if only to himself, that it was a product of a good old-fashioned bout of unrequited love.

_Fuck._

"- - and this is your Daddy, he's gonna look after you from now on but we'll all help out. That sound good, buddy?" John turned to look at him, an encouraging smile on his face, and Rodney realised that he might have zoned out for a bit.

"What? I mean, yeah, yes. Hi..um, Dorian. I'm Dr Rodney McKay, uh, well, uh, your Dad."

Amazingly, no one laughed at the complete hash he'd made of his introduction (although he could swear that he saw Teyla dig a swift warning elbow into Ronon's side). John's eyes twinkled in amusement though as he passed Dorian over, subtly correcting Rodney's arms until he had a proper grip and was less likely to drop the kid on his head.

"Hi!" Dorian smiled up at him, his fingers trying to grip at Rodney's hair in the same way they had John's. He didn't seem to mind that there wasn't much to grip onto which Rodney thought bore well for his future. Seeing Dorian up close for the first time, it really was remarkable just how closely he resembled a younger version of his self. He'd almost believe that the Ancient device had cloning properties if it weren't for Dorian's eyes.

No McKay baby blues for Dorian; instead, his eyes were a soft, warm, almost familiar hazel. Rodney had no idea who his mother had been, never mind what she looked like, so he couldn't really be blamed if those bright, hazel eyes reminded him of someone else instead.

"We go home now?" Dorian asked hopefully, looking at Rodney like he had all the answers.

"Uh, he speaks in sentences?" Rodney shot a panicked look at Carson.

"Aye, Rodney," Carson replied, his mouth twitching. "He's a clever wee laddie, his vocabulary seems a bit ahead of the curve."

"Indeed," Teyla agreed. "He is much more advanced than some of the Athosian children at a similar development level."

"Yes, well," Rodney puffed up in pride, "he is a McKay after all."

"Home now?" Dorian insisted, drawing his attention back to where it should be.

"Yeah, buddy," John leaned over to ruffle Dorian's blonde curls. "Your Dad's gonna get you settled in your new home."

"I am?" Rodney said, starting to panic again.

"Yeah," John agreed, an inch away from glaring at Rodney again, "you are. A couple of the Athosian settlers were kind enough to lend you some things until the Daedalus can bring some supplies. We've set them up in your room. He's already eaten so all you have to do is give him a bath and settle him down.

"Right, my room. I can do this."

"You can do this." John agreed, looking at the others for back-up.

"I have complete faith in your ability to do this, Rodney," Teyla smiled encouragingly.

"That's right, Rodney," Carson chimed in. "And we're just a radio call away if you need help."

Rodney nodded, hitching Dorian higher and eliciting a small giggle while he looked expectantly at Ronon.

"What?" Ronon asked. Rodney definitely saw Teyla elbow him that time. "Oh. Yeah. You'll be great, McKay. Whatever."

_Whatever._

With those stirring words, Rodney looked down at Dorian again, his heart leaping in a mixture of fear and some other inexplicable emotion that he thought just might be love, as he took in the trusting look on the boys,   _his sons_ , face.

Yeah, he could do this.

 


	2. Chapter 2

John had practically frog-marched Rodney to his quarters once they left the infirmary, as if had expected Rodney to take a detour back to the 'gate Room and dump Dorian back through. Dorian, for his part, had seemed much more secure in his immediate future as he squirmed happily in Rodney's arms, letting out the occasional babble of excitement as Atlantis opened herself to them, clapping his hands together in glee as each door whooshed open to let them through.

Rodney was unused to the 25lbs of extra weight that lugging an eighteen-month old toddler added but, despite Carson's assurance that Dorian could probably walk the short distance to and from the transporter under his own steam, he found himself strangely reluctant to let him go. A fact that, if the thoughtful side eye that John was giving him, hadn't gone unnoticed.

Finally arriving at his quarters, Rodney had realised, for the first time, just how much his friends had stepped up during the eight hours he had hid himself away. His narrow, Atlantis style bed had been pushed against the far wall to make room for a beautiful, delicately carved crib that would have looked incredibly out of place in Rodney's cluttered room if someone hadn't taken it upon themselves to tidy away the detritus of too many late nights slumped over his laptop. Instead, the room was neater, and more welcoming than it had been since their first week here.

"Don't worry," John said, "we didn't throw anything that wasn't obviously garbage out. Zelenka was on hand to make sure that we didn't mistake the latest scientific breakthrough for a used napkin. Most of it's been moved to your private lab."

Rodney nodded, still dumbstruck at how much work they had put in.  He finally let Dorian down to happily waddle his way towards the stack of toys that were laid out invitingly on a patchwork blanket.

Concerned at the lack of raving about intrusion on his private space, John frowned. "You OK, Rodney?"

"Wh-?" Rodney cleared his throat. "Yes, Colonel. I'm fine, just a bit...well, this wasn't really where I thought I would end up when I woke up this morning, y'know?" Dorian chose that moment to scream in delight as he spied a floppy eared stuffed rabbit, immediately hugging the toy close. Rodney smiled down at his son, he couldn't help it in the face of such evident happiness, and looked over to John, wanting to share the moment.

John was watching him with an odd look on his face, a strange mix of amusement, pride, worry and something else that Rodney couldn't quite put his finger on. "Yeah, you'll be fine." John squeezed his shoulder as he passed by, kneeling down next to the blanket to say goodbye to Dorian, making appropriately impressed noises when the boy held his bunny out for approval. "You'll have to remember and tell Miko that Saruhashi the rabbit was a hit," he grinned over his shoulder at Rodney.

"Oh," Rodney cast his eyes over the toys, looking closer and noticing the disparity in age and craftsmanship of them for the first time. "I just assumed these were his toys from PX-764, I mean, Andross." He really should get used to calling the world by its name rather than its SGC designation since it was where his son was born.

"There was a fire," John said quietly as he stood up and moved away from Dorian. "He pretty much came through the 'gate with nothing but the clothes on his back."

Rodney paled, realising that he had never even asked how Dorian's mother had died. Swallowing, he nodded in understanding. "Well, I'll be sure to thank everyone for their generosity."

"Blocks?" Dorian interrupted, tugging on Rodney's trouser leg as he held out a brightly painted Athosian wood block. "Play blocks?"

Rodney felt his hand move to card fondly through Dorian's baby soft curls of its own accord. Kids had always liked Rodney. He had never quite been able to understand why (Jeannie had once said that it was because he had the same maturity level as most of them but they'd been fighting when she said that so he's pretty sure she didn't mean it) and most of the time it had been an unwanted, inconvenient annoyance to have every small kid he meant buzzing around him like nothing more than an annoying swarm of mosquitos. Now, though, he had never been more grateful for the fact.

"Yeah, buddy. We can play blocks." Rodney knelt down on the blanket next to Dorian, ignoring the creaking in his knees and let Dorian dictate where he should place the first block.

After a few minutes, they had built a tower taller than Dorian himself and Rodney had to lift him up to let him reach the top which made Dorian giggle wildly.

"I'll leave you to it."

Rodney turned, his cheeks reddening as he realised that he had completely forgotten John was still in the room, and saw him leaning against the door frame watching them with that same odd look on his face.

As he turned to leave, Rodney called his name and he looked back, a question on his face.

"Thank you," he said, "for today, for _everything_."

The tips of John's ears coloured, as he ducked his head in acknowledgement. "You're welcome, Rodney. I'll see you both in the morning. Breakfast?"

Rodney nodded and John turned to leave again.

"Ba-bye Joh!" Dorian waved his hand emphatically, almost hitting Rodney with the block he still had in his fist in his haste to say goodbye.

John almost choked on the longing that lodged itself in his throat. "Bye, buddy."

John left Rodney's (and Dorian's now, he supposed) room and collapsed against the wall outside as the door clicked closed behind him. He could still hear the sounds of domesticity, of family, and breathed out heavily.

The back of his head hit the wall with a thunk.   _Jesus Christ, he was so screwed._

* * *

Dorian got bored with the blocks soon enough. Strangely, he lost interest in the game long before Rodney himself did. Not that building blocks were intellectually stimulating. No, it was more a case of Dorian being endlessly fascinating, his reactions, his personality, every little thing about him had completely entranced Rodney. It helped, as well, that while they were playing with the blocks, Rodney didn't have to worry about what the hell he was supposed to do with a kid. He was playing with him, that seemed to fulfil the duties of a parent, right?

Maybe not one of his parents, sure, but playing with your kids was something that you were supposed to do. Right?

When Dorian's impatience started to make itself known in grouchy pouts and the dis-tempered batting away of the blocks that Rodney was offering him ("like father, like son", his treacherous mind chimed in again), he started to panic.

When the stench of a freshly filled diaper reached his nostrils, Rodney _really_ started to panic.

Picking Dorian up and holding him at arms length before dumping him unceremoniously on what he assumed was the Athosian equivalent of a changing mat, he activated his radio.

"Uh, Teyla?"

* * *

In his defence, Rodney _had_ changed a diaper or two in his time (okay, it was exactly two, changed under threat of torment by Jeannie when she was all hormonal and scary, before they stopped talking) but these cloth ones didn't have the easy 'peel to stick' tabs that he was used to.

Teyla had taken pity on him and agreed to talk him through the process but had pointed out that it was getting late and he would should probably give Dorian a bath before changing him and putting him to bed.

Which, turns out, was easier said than done.

Rodney has a vague memory of hating baths when he was younger, recalling epic arguments and screaming tantrums whenever his parents forced him to have one. Dorian, it seemed, did not have that problem. Instead, he seemed to adore the water, splashing about to his hearts content and beyond thrilled at the bubbles that Rodney fashioned into a hat for him.

No, getting Dorian _into_ the bath was the easy part. Getting him _out_ of it was the hard part.

"NO!"

"Come on, Dorian, please?" Rodney's not above begging, not when it comes to this.

"NO!"

Rodney has tried to pick him up, but he wriggled away like an eel, all slippery with water and soap and the fear of accidentally dropping him and cracking his head open against the hard tub stopped him from trying again.

Defeated for the moment, Rodney collapsed on to the floor, his legs brushing against the waiting towel, all fluffy and soft, obviously donated by someone as the SGC issued towels that they brought with them remained scratchy and stiff no matter how often Rodney cycles them through the laundry.

The towel sparks an idea and Rodney wrapped it around his hands and grabbed Dorian around the middle, lifting him out easily with the extra grip provided. _Success_ , he thinks, just as Dorian starts howling and screaming and kicking in displeasure, twisting so violently in Rodney's arms that his feet get tangled up in his effort to keep upright and suddenly he's falling, falling backwards and _oh god, he's gonna kill his damn kid after being left alone with him for an hour and who the hell thought it was a good idea for him to do this and_ \- with a surprised huff, Rodney finds himself deposited in the six inches of water that lines the bath, an equally surprised (and mercifully startled quiet) Dorian sitting snugly on his belly.

Of course that's the moment that Teyla chose to arrive.

"Is everything all right, Rodney?" She rushes forward to lift Dorian off of him,

"Yeah," he groans, flopping gracelessly to his feet. "Just peachy." His back cracks ominously as he straightens up but as he shifts his muscles gently he realises that it actually feels better than it has in weeks, the near constant niggle of achiness that comes from spending fourteen hours a day hunched over a laptop gone. _Huh, who knew that all it would take is suddenly becoming a father and almost killing his kid._

"The bath was a success then?" Teyla asks, straight-faced.

"Well, he certainly seemed to enjoy himself," Rodney shrugs. "A little too much maybe."

"Ah," Teyla smiled knowingly. "Andross had an unusually high percentage of water coverage as I remember. It seems fortunate that he should now live in Atlantis if he has such an affinity for the water."

Rodney, who is already anticipating the need to brush up on his swimming lessons in the future, huffs in agreement.

"Are you ready to proceed with learning how to fashion a cloth diaper?"

It can't be worse than getting him out the bath (or cleaning up the mess from the dirty diaper) he thinks, cracking his knuckles.  Bring it on.

* * *

 

Rodney is pretty sure that he mastered the theoretical physics behind sub-space velocity quicker than he mastered the art of wrapping a cloth diaper but, with Teyla's patient coaching, he gets there in the end.

Dorian grins sleepily up at him once he's finished as if to say "good job" and Rodney suddenly feels exhausted. Yawning, he placed Dorian in his crib, tucking the soft, donated blanket around him and collapsed back on to his own bed before glancing at the clock.

"Oh god," he complained quietly, "it's only 7pm."

Teyla smiled as she sat down next to him. "I'm told that looking after a child is quite exhausting and it has been a most trying day for you, Rodney. Perhaps, just this once, you should retire early?"

Rodney wanted to refuse, he really did. He wanted to point out that he had done no work all day and that he still had to look at the suspicious energy drain on sub level two and read over the daily reports and supervise the repairs of the waste management system and - -

"I'm not going to be able to do this, am I?"

Teyla looked surprised. "What 'this' do you refer to?"

" _This_ 'this'!" Rodney exclaimed, his hands waving around wildly to make up for the fact that he couldn't raise his voice in case he woke Dorian. "Running the science department and taking care of a child." He sighed heavily. "Teyla, I work fourteen hours a day on a _good_ day. How can I do that and still have time to take care of him?"

"You will not be alone," she assured him. "Colonel Sheppard has informed me that you will be meeting us all for breakfast tomorrow. We can discuss the way forward after that." Looking around the room, taking in the tower of blocks that she knew Dorian couldn't have made on his own, she smiled. "I believe John was correct this afternoon when he informed us all that you would make a wonderful father."

"He said that?"

"He was most insistent."

"Huh."

Teyla brushed a stray eyelash off of Rodney's face as she stood, smiling at his surprise. "Get some sleep, Rodney. We will see you in the morning and it will all look better then."

Watching her leave, Rodney slumped down on his bed, a warm tingly feeling in his stomach.

John thought he would be a wonderful father. Huh.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is screwed.

"You look like crap," Ronon greeted John, swiping the 'almost banana' muffin off of John's tray with a grin as he joined him and Teyla at their usual table. "So, we taking bets that the kid's still alive?"

If that sentence had come from anyone other than a member of his team, John would have wasted no time at all in chewing them out (something that more than one marine had found out yesterday) but he knew that Ronon didn't mean it seriously. Hell, Ronon had been right there behind him, hand on gun, while John threatened to bust Corporal Luiz back to Private for joking about Rodney's parenting abilities.

"Rodney was doing a fine job when I saw him yesterday evening," Teyla chastised Ronon with a smile, taking the muffin out of his hands and placing it back on John's tray.

John's head snapped up in surprise. "You saw them last night?" he asked. "I thought we agreed to leave them alone to, y'know, bond or whatever?" John realised he was perilously close to whining but if he had known that Teyla was going to go back on their agreement, he could have stayed a bit longer himself.

"Rodney requested my presence so he might learn how to properly cloth Dorian. I would not have imposed myself otherwise, John." Teyla raised an eyebrow at his outburst. "Are you feeling well? You do not look well rested."

Grumbling, John just shifted his porridge closer, ignoring the exchanged looks between Teyla and Ronon. The truth was that he had tossed and turned most of the night, after awakening from a disturbing dream in the early hours of the morning. A "Rodney" dream.

Rodney McKay was no stranger to John's dreams. In truth, he had featured in a somewhat starring role for the past couple of years. An often pornographic starring role.

This dream had been different though. For one thing, Rodney had kept his clothes on in this one. In fact, it hadn't been even slightly pornographic (more's the pity). Instead, it had been downright domestic. In place of fumbling hands and hot breath, there had been holding hands and hot drinks. Long walks, early nights and, most terrifyingly of all, a small blonde haired boy that smiled at them both and called him Dad.

Waking up with the realisation of just how screwed he was had stolen any chance at sleep John might have had.

Luckily, any further investigation Teyla would have made was stalled by the arrival of a harried looking Rodney and a beaming Dorian who had arrived in the mess hall and made a direct line to their table.

"Thank God, you're here," Rodney said. "Here," he pushed Dorian into John's space, forcing him to sit the boy on his lap or drop him, "you can watch him while I get us some food."

As quickly as he had arrived, Rodney was gone to join the queue of late arrivals for the breakfast rush, leaving John staring stupidly after him.

"Hi!" Dorian greeted John by trying to fit his fingers up John's nose.

"Hey, little man," Ronon held his hand out for a high five which Dorian excitedly returned, having learned how to do so yesterday while Rodney was sorting his head out.  John shot Ronon a grateful look as it meant that his nostrils were now free from curious fingers.

Teyla smiled widely across the table at them both while she accepted her own high five.

"No! Absolutely not," Rodney appeared back at the table, his tray more overflowing than usual. "I will not have you teaching him that skateboarder surfer slacker greeting." Rodney dumped his tray on the table, collapsed into the seat next to John and reached over to lift Dorian onto his own lap. "Dorian, you're half Canadian. We don't high five we shake hands. Can you shake my hand?"

Ronon and Teyla laughed as Rodney held his hand out to shake and Dorian high fived it with a giggle. John wasn't sure he had enough air in his lungs to laugh; watching Rodney interact with Dorian was stealing his breath away as if he was the heroine of some damn harlequin romance novel. He shovelled a spoonful of cold porridge in his mouth instead.

"We expected you sooner than this Rodney, were you delayed in some manner?"

Rodney humphed in agreement at Teyla's query. "We would have gotten here a quarter of an hour ago if everyone we passed hadn't felt the need to coo over this one," Rodney nodded his head in Dorian's direction. "So, not only have I had to exchange social niceties with a bunch of people whose names I haven't bothered to learn, I've missed out on the last of the almost banana muffins."

John nudged his reclaimed muffin over to Rodney's tray. "Here," he said, "you can have mine."

He tried very hard to ignore the amused glance that Teyla and Ronon exchanged as Rodney wasted no time in breaking off a piece of muffin, his face beaming in the particular brand of delight that always seemed to accompany good food.

"Hungry!" Dorian cried out, smacking his hands urgently on the table.

Ronan laughed out loud, his eyes crinkling at the corner in mirth. "Yeah, he's a McKay alright."

Ignoring Ronon, Rodney looked between his coffee and Dorian, obviously conflicted between his need to break his fast in the usual McKay style and the need to feed his son. John could only take the heartbreaking look of longing that Rodney was giving his plate for so long before he took pity on him.

"Hand him over, I'll feed him," he offered. He'd tried to pitch the offer reluctantly but another exchanged look between Teyla and Ronon told him he hadn't succeeded.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Rodney wasted no time in transferring Dorian over to him. "Try him with the porridge. No, the one in the green bowl. Or maybe the scrambled eggs?" Rodney reached into the backpack he had brought with him and pulled out a sports bottle that could work as a sippy cup. "He should be able to feed himself but we're not really set up for child friendly utensils here yet. Here," Rodney handed the makeshift sippy cup over. "I filled this with apple juice until Carson can confirm whether he's inherited my allergies."

Between them, they managed to get Dorian to eat a few mouthfuls of porridge, a small plateful of eggs and Rodney even sacrificed a small bite of his muffin which the smaller McKay seemed to enjoy almost as much as his older counterpart. It wasn't until Dorian was finished and climbing to stand on John's knees and look around the mess hall in curiosity that he realised Rodney had actually left most of his breakfast untouched, having been far too absorbed in John and Dorian.

Well, he supposed, it was nice to know that he wasn't the only one who was screwed.

* * *

  
“You’re resigning?” John felt justified in yelling as, for the second day in a row, another bombshell was dropped in Elizabeth’s office. He was thankful that Rodney’d had the presence of mind to ask Teyla and Ronon to look after Dorian while they had this conversation so he didn't have to moderate his reaction.

“Only as Head of the science department,” Rodney clarified, which helped to somewhat loosen the clenching unhappiness in John’s gut. “I’m happy to stay on as a general member of the science team as long as you’ll have me.” He cleared his throat. “And, I know that I don’t have any say on my replacement but I think Radek would do a....he'd do an acceptable job.” Rodney trailed off, fidgeting uncomfortably under the joint scrutiny of John and Elizabeth.

John could understand the reasoning behind this decision, of course he could, but as he watched Rodney put up his usual blustery front, pretending that everything was all right, he could see what it was costing the man.  It didn't take a genius to know that this decision was killing Rodney inside.

“No, absolutely not,” John was more than OK with playing the bad guy if it took that unhappy, resigned look of off Rodney’s face. “Elizabeth, you can’t be thinking about accepting this. We would all be dead a hundred times over if it wasn’t for Rodney. We need him here and in charge, not following someone else's orders.”

Elizabeth sighed. She stood up from her seat and walked around to stand next to John, the two of them presenting a united front against Rodney’s proposal. “I have to agree with Colonel Sheppard, Rodney. Are you sure stepping down as Head is the only solution. I’d hate to lose you. Surely we can come to some sort of compromise?”

Rodney’s shoulders deflated and John found he didn’t like the newly defeated look on his face any more than he had liked the resigned one. “This _is_ the compromise, Elizabeth. There’s another version of that letter sitting on my laptop that’s a lot more final.”

John felt like the bottom had just fallen out of his world and sat down heavily on the table before his knees buckled. “You’d leave Atlantis?” he asked. The question he really wanted the answer to went unasked. _You’d leave me?_

“I don’t want to,” Rodney half-assed the answer. “But I just don’t see how I can do what I do and still have the time to make Dorian my priority.” Rodney looked more lost than John had ever seen him.

“Of course, Dorian should be your priority,” Elizabeth soothed him. “No-one is denying that but, Rodney, it _is_ possible to do both. Women have been having babies and careers for decades now.”

“Oh, please,” John almost smiled as Rodney managed to raise some of his trademark disdain. “Spare me the lecture on empowerment and women’s choice. I very much doubt they had the Wraith and the Replicators to deal with while they juggled the office and the school run.”

Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the incensed look on Elizabeth’s face, John decided it would be prudent to change the subject, which had the added benefit of letting him jump on a chink in Rodney’s well-reasoned argument. “But!” he interjected with a raised finger, “we defeated the Replicators and the Wraith are on the run. This is the safest Atlantis has ever been.  The quietest.” _Hah, let him talk his way out of that one,_ John smirked.

“OK, fine, Colonel. You’re right. Happy now?”

John was slightly happier now but the way Rodney was waving his arms about let him know that he probably shouldn’t answer that.

“I..I can’t do it, OK?”

John’s happiness disappeared at the first crack in Rodney’s voice.

“This is just too much and the only way that I can even think about coping with this giant responsibility that has been pushed on me – without my consent, I might add – is _this_.” He gesticulated at the letter sitting unopened on Elizabeth’s desk. “I couldn’t even take a shower this morning, because I couldn’t leave him alone.  Tell me how I'm supposed to run a department.”

John felt the tips of his ears turn red as he remembered thinking that Rodney smelt more enticing than usual this morning.

“Look, I just can’t see any other way. This is the best solution I can come up with. I can’t be a single father _and_ the Head of the Science department.” Rodney collapsed into a waiting chair as he finished his piece.

“Well, I guess I have no choice but to - - “

“What if you weren’t a single parent?” John blurted out, interrupting Elizabeth’s grudging acceptance of Rodney’s plan.

Confused, Rodney frowned at John. “Well, I suppose if it wasn’t just me then an alternative arrangement could possibly be made but that’s not very likely to happen, is it? I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of on my own here.”

John drew in a breath. He didn’t have a coin with him to flip, but even if he had, there was no way he could leave a choice this big, this defining, to chance.  Although, when he thought about it, it wasn’t much of a choice at all, really.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

“I’m sorry, you’ll do what?” Rodney asked as he directed his very finest ‘what the hell are you talking about’ look at John.

“I’ll,” John waved his hands between them, “I’ll be your co-parent.” Rodney looked blankly at him. John soldiered on, gathering steam, getting more and more passionate about his plan. “We’ll raise the kid together. There are some family sized rooms down near the East pier, we could share and you wouldn’t be in this alone. You could stay on as Head of Science, you could _shower_ , it’s perfect.”

It _was_ perfect. Except for the way Rodney was looking at him like he had been dropped on his head one too many times.

"C'mon, Rodney. Dorian likes me and, well, we've managed not to kill each other yet in the past four years. This could work."

Rodney shook his head, his lips pressed together so tightly that his mouth almost disappeared. "You can't possibly want to do this. Why would you want to do this?"

Elizabeth watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, obviously as interested as Rodney in the answer to that question.

John _knew_ why he was offering, he _knew_ that Rodney's frequent appearances in his dreams was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to what he felt about Rodney. Hell, he was thirty-eight years old and finally ready to admit to himself what he wanted.

He just wasn't sure if he was quite ready to admit it to Rodney.

"I just don't want to see you leave," he tried, the answer sounding glib even to him.  "You're needed here. Atlantis needs you." _I need you._

If anything, his answer caused Rodney's lips to thin even more and John tried to prepare himself for a refusal, already digging deep and bringing down his mask of casualness that had served him through numerous talking downs, his transfer to Antarctica and his divorce. 

The silence in the room was thick and heavy and John was three seconds away from writing it all off as a joke when Rodney came to a decision, crossing his arms and pushing out his chest.

"Ok, fine," he said. "But I get the bigger room."

John grinned, feeling wild and reckless and just a little bit terrified that he had made a horrible mistake. Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief, muttering something under her breath but John couldn't care less. All he could think about was Rodney and Dorian and how Rodney wouldn't have to give anything up, how he would get to see Rodney and Dorian first thing every morning and last thing every night.

This was going to be great.

_....Right?_


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't until Rodney had started packing up his quarters that he realised just how few belongings he had accumulated during his time on Atlantis. The sad fact was that, despite having been on Atlantis for only two days, Dorian's possessions took up more space than his own. After his work had been cleared out and stored in his lab – away from curious hands - all he was really left with was a few changes of uniform, a handful of civilian clothes that he never seemed to get the time to wear and a picture of his cat.

 

It hadn't always been like this, _he_ hadn't always been like this. Back on Earth, the only thing that had kept his apartment from looking like an episode of Hoarders was the cleaning company he paid to stop that very thing from happening. One of the hardest things about leaving his life on Earth behind, besides having to leave his cat with someone who may has well have been a stranger for all the notice she'd took of him, was having to give up all of his _stuff_.

 

Model kits had littered every surface, most of them heavily customised to improve on the manufacturer's design; his music collection which was far too vast to be contained in the small media unit that had come with the apartment, CD cases often ending up being used as coasters for any of the dozen mugs that dotted themselves around his living space on any given day; countless piles of dog-eared, yellow-paged, science fiction novels that he bought three for a dollar in used bookstores and garage sales. If anyone ever asked, he would have told them that he read them only to make fun of the bad science – but no-one had ever asked. No-one ever got close enough to ask.

 

These things, these inconsequential things that had been so important to him back on Earth were, he found, surprisingly easy to live without – although it probably helped that his down time on Atlantis was reserved exclusively for catching up on all the sleep he missed when he was busy trying to save them all from certain death. Again.

 

One of the most jarring things about sharing a living space with John and Dorian was how much stuff suddenly surrounded him.

 

He'd always known rationally that children needed a lot of things but he hadn't really understood it until Dorian. The donated pile of clothing that Teyla had brought over from the Athosians had seemed much too large and wasteful at first, but after a week of having to change outfits three times a day, _minimum,_ Rodney knew that it was woefully lacking unless he intended to quit the science department all together and work in the laundry full time. He hoped that the arrival of child-sized cutlery and dishware would cut down on the need for so many changes of clothes but he wasn't counting on it and he made sure that the growing list of supplies that he was requisitioning from Earth contained enough clothes that would see Dorian through to his sixth birthday.

 

As well as the hodge-podge of accumulated toys and furniture for Dorian, Rodney had to contend with all of John's things as well.

 

There was a Johnny Cash poster on the wall behind the couch which no amount of arguing that the stern-faced man in black might scare Dorian could convince John that it would be better kept in his room. (Dorian didn't really help this argument by adding “CASH!” to his ever growing vocabulary of words and hooting along with the insufferable racket every time John played the music. _Traitor._ )

 

A surf board hung on the cupboard door, golf clubs were inevitably propped up against the wall somewhere instead of being kept in John's room as they were supposed to. (Rodney had scored out the toddler-sized body board that John had added to the list of “Dorian” items with enough force that the paper had torn. Feeling magnanimous in the face of John's pouting, he had allowed the junior golf set to remain.)

 

Harder to get used to was the guitar that migrated from room to room depending on John's mood. The first time that Rodney had come home to find John strumming softly at the strings had hit him like an anvil in the chest, his own love of music, of playing, of letting the notes flow through him, had bubbled up with enough force to choke him.

 

John wasn't what anyone would call a talented musician, his chord progressions were clumsy and his playing stilted where it should be smooth. Still, there was something beautiful about it, something that went beyond the simple sound of the music and down into the feeling behind it. Rodney loved to listen to John play almost as much as he hated it.

 

Dorian had no such reservations; he loved to listen to John play. _'Itar'_ was the twentieth word to enter his collection, just behind 'Pamcake' and just before 'Daddy'.

 

Rodney hadn't referred to himself as Dad in Dorian's presence since the first time he introduced himself and Dorian hadn't seemed to have any trouble letting people know when he wanted Rodney without having to resort to words which worked out perfectly for him. Somehow, being called 'Dad' would make everything so much more real – not that it got more real than changing diapers and extracting snot from noses. He knew he was being silly about this, that Dorian verbalising their relationship like that wouldn't change anything, but he felt he was due at least one irrational reaction to this whole thing.

 

John hadn't got that memo or, more likely, had chosen to ignore it if he had. From the moment that they had moved to their new quarters, John had started a one man campaign. “Hey, look buddy, your Daddy's home,” greeted him every night. “Why don't you ask Daddy to play with you”; “Bye buddy, you be good for Daddy”; hell, Rodney wouldn't be surprised if John had been showing Dorian his photo and chanting “Daddy” every time he left for the lab.

 

Dorian had definitely seemed to inherit the McKay stubborn streak though. It was almost as if he was refusing to use the name until Rodney himself gave him the go ahead.

 

Which Rodney had done in a fit of panic when Dorian had tripped up over a piece of air and missed hitting his head on the side of the low table that they had been using as a coffee table by a few inches. (When the story was told later it would graduate from a few inches to mere millimeters but John, who had also been there, only one step behind Rodney, maintained that it was at least a foot.)

 

Rodney had rushed towards Dorian in a burst of speed that surpassed anything that he had managed while actual projectiles were being fired at him and swept the sobbing boy into his arms.

 

“It's OK, baby, Daddy's got you, you're fine. Daddy's here,” he soothed, stroking his hand through Dorian's curls.

 

Dorian, who was more scared than hurt, clung fiercely to him and sobbed loudly, quieting eventually and ending the tears with a tearful, hiccuping cry of “Daddy.”

 

The funny thing was, in the end, it didn't feel scary at all; it felt like..well, it felt like home.

 

John, who had been hovering next to him, stroking his hand up and down Dorian's back as the boy cried his fear out into Rodney's neck, caught Rodney's eye and grinned widely, looking as thrilled as Rodney felt.

 

It was only after John moved closer to press a gentle kiss against Dorian's hair and left with a gentle “I'll leave you guys alone for a minute” that Rodney realised what a huge mistake letting John do this was.

 

Because, the thing was, when John left them alone he took a little bit of that feeling with him. That warm, soft, safe, addictive feeling of home, of – _oh, christ_ – of family.

 

Rodney sat down with a sigh, shifting a sleepy Dorian closer. What the hell was he going to do now?

 


	5. Chapter 5

Rodney eventually decided to do what had worked for him for the past four years. Namely, pretend that his feelings for John didn't exist.

Yes, it was a little harder to convince himself of that fact when the sight of John clad in nothing but a towel after his morning shower accosted him every morning but, as much as it hurt to be so close to the intimacy that he wanted with John while still being a million miles away from it, he would endure that, and so much more, to keep Dorian happy.

Dorian was generally a happy baby, always smiling and chattering away to anyone who would listen, but he lit up around John in a way that he did for no one else. Rodney wouldn't - _couldn't_ \- take that away from him.

As long as John was willing to do the selfless, for-the-good-of-Atlantis, thing and stick with this ridiculous vow to co-parent, Rodney was going to let him.

For Dorian's sake.

* * *

"I overheard Elizabeth say that the Daedalus will arrive on Atlantis in a weeks time. You must be looking forward to receiving the items you ordered for Dorian?" Teyla bounced Dorian on her lap as he looked up at her after hearing his name, smiling at him as he waved a half chewed piece of toast in her direction.

Breakfasts with Teyla and Ronon had become a necessary part of Dorian's routine, having two extra pairs of hands to help feed and entertain him were a welcome relief to both John and Rodney. Not as welcome a relief as finally getting some proper kid supplies would be though.

"Heck, yes," John replied - ignoring the snort from Ronon at his continuing attempt to stop swearing where little ears could here. "I found this little, "my first football" that we can use to teach him the game. It's gonna be great."

"Great!" Dorian copied, clapping his hands together (and smashing his toast in the process.)

Ronon raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between John and Rodney. "And you're OK with this, McKay? Your kid playing football."

"Well," Rodney tried to ignore the smug grin on John's face, "we agreed that Dorian should be as well rounded as possible. It's important that he get a chance to experience everything so he can decide what's right for him." _Even if it is a brain dead, Neanderthal activity like American football_ , he thought.

Ronon laughed. "It's the only way Sheppard would let you get him some sort of boring science set, isn't it?"

"Hey," Rodney pointed his fork at Ronon, "he's gonna love that science set. It's got all these really cool experiments that you can do in the bath."

"Bath?!" Dorian asked, excitedly. "Wanna play in bath!"

John groaned and lifted Dorian off Teyla's lap. "Sorry, buddy, not right now. Bath time is later," he said before hurriedly pulling his dog tags out of his shirt and letting Dorian play with them in an attempt to forestall any whining.

Teyla smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Rodney. I am sure that he will enjoy that."

Rodney blushed, like he did any time someone said anything that pointed to what a good job he was doing with Dorian. "Yes, well, I'm sure he'll tolerate the football thing too."

"Well," Ronon stretched out in his chair, his long arms extending above his head, "that's great that mini McKay's gonna be entertained but I'm still bored. I'm sick and tired of being grounded."

Teyla hummed in agreement. "I must admit," she said, "that I, too, am quite keen to resume our duties. Have you given any thought to when you will be returning to the team, Rodney?"

Rodney froze. When was he coming back? He hadn't ever really thought about it, he'd been too busy trying to get through each day but now that someone had mentioned it he knew that there was only one possible answer to that question.

"Uh, we need to talk."

* * *

Rodney had taken to hanging around the 'gate room whenever the team went off world. After the first time Chuck had snapped and asked him, very politely, to find something better to do with his time, he started bringing Dorian with him, counting on his blonde curls and hazel eyes to win the gate techs over.

It worked, with only the occasional wary glare thrown his way whenever he started muttering under his breath when SGA-1 missed a check-in by more than five seconds.  Which was every damn time they were due to check in.  He was going to have to get John a better watch.

The decision to leave the team may have seemed a simple one but that didn't mean that it was easy.

Teyla, at least, had understood his intention immediately and her solid, vocal backing of his decision meant a lot to him in the awkward days that followed. Ronon had been grudgingly accepting, seemingly more concerned with the idea of breaking in another scientist than losing Rodney from the team. Although there had been a fair bit of grumbling about another team benefiting from all the hard work he'd put in training Rodney as well.

That had been Elizabeth's idea; Rodney joining another team. Apparently she had agreed with John's very vocal arguments that Rodney's expertise was needed on an off-world team although John hadn't been happy that it wasn't _his_ off-world team. At least not until Rodney gave him a reality check.

They had barely made it out of Elizabeth's office and into John's before John had whirled at him. "What the hell, Rodney?" he had yelled. "You know I would never let anything to happen to you. I haven't let you down yet, have I."

"Forgive me, Colonel, but not everything is about you," Rodney had yelled back.

"Well, this _feels_ personal. You're perfectly willing to keep going off-world as long as it's not with me. How the hell else am I supposed to take that?"

"You're supposed to understand that if, God forbid, the worst were to happen then Dorian would be left without both of his goddamn parents. Are you willing to risk that, John? Because I sure as hell am not."

John had lost all his steam and anger as soon as he heard the plural of parent fall from Rodney's lips.

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Rodney had sighed. "Fuck."

A truce was reached after that, but that didn't make the fact that he was off the team any less painful.

So, Rodney waited in the gate room, pacing and muttering plans about implanting some kind of subcutaneous transmitter in John while he was sleeping, let John fret over him and adjust his gear before every mission he went on with Major Lorne's team and both of them pretended that, no matter how right the decision was, it didn't kill them a little bit inside each time they stepped through the 'gate without the other by their side.

* * *

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard."

"John," Elizabeth sounded relieved over the radio, "it's good to hear from you. You're a little bit later than we expected."

John grimaced. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I don't suppose you could lower the shield and let us come home?"

"Shields lowered, John. Do we need Carson on stand-by?"

"He had better not!" John heard Rodney's appalled voice in his ear and couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face.

"We're good, Elizabeth. See you in a second."

John stepped out of the event horizon and into the gate room with a deep sigh of relief. Atlantis had never felt more welcoming after a disastrous mission that had ended up with him covered head to toe in mud and god knows what else. All he wanted was to get clean and dry and collapse on his couch with a - -

"What the hell happened?!"

Teyla, Ronon and Parrish quickly moved away as Rodney came slowly clambering down the steps, arms arms held out in protection as Dorian wobbled his way carefully down behind him.  The juxtaposition of Rodney's quick temper and slow, careful movements made John smile.

"You come home an hour late and covered in crap. Do you have any idea how worried we both were?"

John grinned. "I missed you too, Rodney."

Rodney humphed and continued to spout vitriol about the mess he was making and how " _1300 hours means 1300 hours, not 1422, Colonel_ ". John ignored him, content to let the familiar tone wash over him as he crouched down down, not caring about the mud he was dripping all over the floor, to greet Dorian.

"Hi, buddy, did you keep your Daddy out of trouble while I was gone?"

"Joh! Miss you Joh!"

Before he could stop him, Dorian had launched himself into John's arms, wrapping his pudgy arms around John's neck.

"Oh," Rodney threw his arms up in exasperation, "that's just perfect. Now he's filthy too."

John hefted Dorian into his arms and stood up, grinning at Rodney. "Well, I guess that we're just going to have to give him his bath early."

"Bath! Bath, bath, bath, bath." Dorian sing-sponged loudly as he clapped his hands on John's shoulders, causing yet more mud to slosh off and onto the usually pristine floors of Atlantis.

"Well, I can tell you now that I won't be the one cleaning the bath after the two of you have ruined it."

John and Rodney fell into step as they headed away from the gate room in the direction of their quarters. "I'll clean the bath after the briefing," John promised, nudging Rodney's shoulder with his own gently and laughing at the expression of disgust on his face as he wiped distastefully at the mud. "Briefing in an hour ok, Elizabeth?" John called over his shoulder in afterthought as they rounded the corner, gone from sight before Elizabeth could answer.

The amused silence in the gate room was broken by Parrish who leaned towards Ronon and asked, "How much is it to get in on that pool you've got going?"

Ronon grinned and pulled a pencil from somewhere in his hair. "Anyone else want in?"

By the time Ronon left for his own shower, every person in the gate room had placed their bets. He just hoped that Sheppard and McKay would pull their heads out their asses soon. And not because he had all his money on next Tuesday.

At least, not _just_ because of that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deadalus arrives with goodies for Dorian and a surprise guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've noticed the new character tag, then the guest is not a very big surprise...

Rodney hadn't been so excited about the Deadalus' arrival since the first batch of coffee beans were beamed down to Atlantis which, when he stopped to think about it, was slightly terrifying. At some point in the past four weeks his priorities had taken some serious rearranging.

 _I guess that's what becoming a father does_ , he thought. Although, if someone had told him that he'd be as excited about the prospect of disposable diapers and booster seats as he was about Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee then he would have - well -  there would probably have been a lot of words used that he was no longer able to say in the presence of impressionable ears.

It made him feel simultaneously better and worse that John seemed to be in the exact same boat. Better because it would mean that he wasn't the only one who felt this way and worse because it would mean John was as much in love with Dorian as he was. And while most people would consider that a good attribute for a co-parent to have, it also meant that when John inevitably settled down with some leather-clad floozy or glowy, ascended Ancient, someone - probably all three of them - was going to get hurt.

Still, at least he wasn't the only person bouncing on his heels in the 'gate room waiting on Chuck confirming that the Deadalus had arrived; John and Dorian were right beside him.

Dorian had picked up on the air of excitement, even if he didn't know what he was excited about, and while John was making plans to test out all of the ridiculously tiny sports equipment he'd ordered, Rodney privately thought that Dorian would be lucky to last until noon without crashing into exhaustion.

"Hyperspace window opening," Chuck announced. "It's the Deadalus."

"About frelling time," Rodney grumbled.

"Frelling? Really?" John's mouth quirked in amusement.

"Shut up, it was a good show," Rodney shot over his shoulder as he bent down to pick Dorian off the ground. It would be typical of Caldwell to beam down right on top of his son, the man was just that type - never mind that the laws of physics should make it impossible.

The familiar white glow of the Asgard beaming technology touched down on Atlantis and Rodney shifted Dorian higher, suddenly apprehensive about Caldwell's reaction. It was now common knowledge back in the SGC that Rodney McKay had become a father and he just knew that more than a few people probably found that very idea to be worthy of hilarity and ridicule. There was nothing he could do about that; he'd come to terms a long time ago that his arrogance and self-worth put a lot of people off and he'd (mostly) accepted that now, even if some of the comments he heard said about him still hurt. But, having people on an entirely different galaxy reacting badly to the news was one thing. If it happened here on Atlantis, if Caldwell said anything hurtful, he's not sure that he could cope. Or keep John from shooting him.  
With one last attempt to tame Dorian's curls (and yet another mental reminder to talk to someone about getting his hair cut), Rodney pulled himself straight and readied to face Colonel Caldwell. Who seemed to have miraculously regrown his hair and developed breasts and - -

\- -" _JEANNIE_?"

* * *

"Honestly Mer, what did you expect?" Jeannie berated him without so much as glancing at him, too busy playing with Dorian who had latched on to her instantaneously. _Traitor_. "That I would read the one sentence in your last email that said "and by the way, I have a kid now" and leave it at that? Of course I came."

"You _didn't_ ," John glared at him, which he felt was really unwarranted.

"Well, what else was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know," Jeannie finally looked at him as Dorian toddled over to show John the toy plane that she'd given him. "Maybe a bit more detail. An explanation of how you and Colonel Sheppard managed to make a child together would be nice."

_"What?!"_

"Whoa there. Hold on a second."

Jeannie looked quizzically between John and Rodney, her eyebrow raised at their joint outburst. "Oookay," she said. "What am I missing?"

"Dorian isn't mine," John answered with a glance at Rodney. "I mean, not really. His, ah, his M-O-M," he risked a glance at Dorian who was happily swooshing his plane around John's legs, "she died."

"I'm sorry," Jeannie's mouth turned down in the familiar McKay manner that Dorian already mimicked. "I just, his eyes look kind of like yours and - -"

Rodney watched John's eyes widen, watched the way his eyes darted towards Dorian's own and he could have kicked himself from not noticing it before. Except, of course, he had. Hadn't one of his first thoughts on holding Dorian been how beautiful his eyes were? John's face had turned soft and fond and Rodney had to look away before he did something really stupid like caress it gently.

He cleared his throat. "Well, be that as it may, John may not be _biologically_ related to Dorian but he's...well, he's a big part of his life. He's been an amazing help and, honestly, I don't know how we would have managed without him. Me or Dorian."

John looked up at him, his eyes suspiciously watery and smiled, evidently touched. Rodney wanted to say more, wanted to insist that Dorian _was_ his, in all the ways that mattered at least. That they both were. But that was against the rules so he settled for shrugging his shoulders and avoiding eye contact.

"Huh," Jeannie sat back on her heels, her face thoughtful. "Well, Colonel Sheppard," she eventually said, "thank you for looking out for my brother."

"It's my pleasure," he drawled in reply. "Call me John."

"Uh-huh." Jeannie clapped her hands together. "So, when can I see Teyla and Ronon?"

* * *

"Come on, Rodney. She's your sister. She's Dorian's aunt. Isn't it kind of nice that she came all this way to be here for you?"

“ _Nice?!_ " The only thing that kept Rodney from shouting was the fact that Dorian was sacked out in his room - not having made it past lunch as he had suspected. Instead, he tossed the pair of toddler-sized jeans he had been in the middle of folding on the couch which did absolutely nothing to help with his frustrations. “No, _nice_ would have been sending a blanket or a cuddly toy. Taking the 36 day round trip to visit is her checking up on me.”

John quickly rescued the next sealed box, the one marked 'fragile' from Rodney's reach and Rodney took that as his cue to slump on the couch with his head in his hands. He felt the couch move as John settled his weight next to him and then a warm hand was pressed against his shoulder blades.

God, he wanted to lean into it; John's touch was grounding and exactly what he needed and not quite enough all at once.

“Why would she do that?” John asked.

“Because I - - “

“- - and don't tell me it's because she thinks you'd be a horrible father because I don't buy that. Jeannie knows you. Probably better than I do and anyone who knows you wouldn't think that for a second.”

Rodney huffed. “And the people who don't know me?” he asked.

John's mouth turned up at the corner. “Well, they're missing out on a lot of really fun lectures on how completely nonsensical the science in Back To The Future is.”

Rodney couldn't help but smile at that.

“ _And_ ,” John continued, “they don't matter.”

Rodney sighed. “Well, I mean, I suppose it _was_ nice of her. And it'll be good for Dorian to get to know his aunt.”

“See, that's the spirit.” John's shoulder brushed against his as he removed the warm hand from Rodney's back. “Anyway, let's finish going through the clothes while Dor's sleeping, at least. And we have to dress him in these when he wakes up.” John held up a set of Dorian sized BDUs and a black shirt with the Atlantis insignia on the sleeve.

“Absolutely not,” Rodney blustered. “One Sheppard is all we need, thank you very much. I've compromised over the sports toys but I'll not have you turning him into a mini-Kirk.”

John grinned at his outburst like it was welcome and Rodney caught himself mentally tallying how many times John had been hit in the head. No-one looked at him like that when he was berating them.  No-one with any sense, anyway.

“Well, how about this instead?” John held up a Batman t-shirt.

Rodney snatched it out of his hands. “This is great. Where did you get this? Did you order this?”

John shrugged. “Wasn't me. There's a whole box filled with stuff like that.”

Rodney was up and pawing through the box before John could even finish gesturing. “Oh my God, John, look! Battlestar Galactica t-shirts! And Star Trek!”

“I thought you didn't want him to be a mini-Kirk?”

“Not Kirk, no. But there's nothing wrong with modelling yourself after Picard.”

“ _Picard?_ No way. I'd rather he took after Janeway than Picard!” John said Janeway like it was a dirty word and Rodney grinned in challenge.

John always did know how to make him feel better.

* * *

Jeannie sat on the covered toilet seat and watched as Rodney went through the motions of giving Dorian a bath.  From what she could tell, it was more about splashing and playing that it was getting clean.

She laughed as Rodney allowed Dorian to pull him forward and use the water to spike up Rodney's hair the same way Rodney had done to Dorian.

“Same!” Dorian said proudly when he was done.

“I don't know, buddy, I think your Daddy has a little less hair than you.”

Jeannie turned her head to see John leaning casually against the bathroom door-frame.

“No! Same!” Dorian insisted, wiping a bubble soaked hand over Rodney's mouth. “Daddy and Dorian are same.”

Jeannie felt a little bit ashamed at how surprised she felt watching Rodney interact so easily with Dorian. If anyone had asked, she would have immediately answered that Rodney would make an amazing father, angry that anyone would even think about suggesting otherwise. Madison adored him, even if Jeannie wasn't sure why sometimes and, as awkward as he could sometimes be, her brothers heart was always in the right place. But, if she was honest with herself, she had half-thought that he would be struggling a bit with that realisation himself. Although, from what she had noticed and what Teyla and Ronon had told her, Rodney was maybe too busy struggling with another, different realisation.

“Well,” John's voice jolted her from her thoughts, “it's time that Daddy and Dorian finished up with bath time. You know what that means?”

Jeannie watched in confusion as Dorian started clapping at the water in excitement, giggling in anticipation.

“OK, Dor, you know the rules. We need to get all the bath toys out of the water before the plug eats them. Rodney, get ready to pull that plug in one...two...three.”

Rodney pulled the plug with a dramatic flourish and, as the water started to swirl down the drain, Dorian, with a little help from John and Rodney, started to enthusiastically throw his toys, both Athosian made and new, Earth bought ones, out of the bath and into the waiting box. John was shouting the whole time, cautioning Dorian about how long he had left and “ _oh no, Dor, the blue octopus, quick! The plug monster's almost got them!_ ”

When the final toy was 'safe', Rodney swooped Dorian into a waiting towel and held him out so he could high-five John and then, reluctantly, accepted a high-five of his own before handing him over to John who was in charge of drying him and helping him dress for bed tonight.

They really were like a well-oiled machine, Jeannie thought. Even if she couldn't say that she entirely approved of the “plug-monster” tactic; she's pretty sure that would have gave Madison nightmares.

As if he sensed her thoughts, Rodney smiled apologetically at her. “It's the only way we've found that gets him out the bath without a tantrum.  He likes it.”

“Don't worry about it,” she said, “I once told Madison that when the ice-cream truck played music, it meant it was out of ice-cream.”

Rodney looked horrified. “But that's just cruel!”

Jeannie laughed and linked her arm in his as they left the bathroom. She could hear the sounds of Colonel Sheppard ( _John_ , she really should get used to calling him John if things were going the way she hoped they were) helping Dorian decide between his whale pyjamas or his helicopter pyjamas. (“C'mon, buddy, helicopters are cool”) and decided that would probably take enough time that they could have a private discussion.

“So,” she began, “Mer.”

“Don't” he pleaded. “Just, don't. I know what you're going to say and – let me tell you – I really regret telling you about my big bisexual realisation in college now, but it can't happen.”

“Why not?” she asked. “You clearly want it to.”

“Look, I'm not saying that's true,” Jeannie rolled her eyes and Rodney glared at her. “But, if it was..if it was, it wouldn't be enough. He's _straight_. And, even if he wasn't, he's _military_. And even if _that_ wasn't true, he's John Sheppard. I mean, c'mon, you've got eyes. You can see him. He's way out of my league.”

“Mer - -”

“No, Jeannie. Just..no. Even if none of what I just said was true, I've got Dorian now and he's..well, he's not what I expected and I..I don't think I really, truly, understood your decision before. But, _now?_ There are more important things than your own wants. Kids come first. Madison came first over science for you and I get that now, Jeannie, I really do and I'm sorry for how I reacted back then, I truly am. I know how you must have felt now and Dorian has to come first with me now and I couldn't ask John to make that kind of commitment for me, for us. So...just leave it. Please.”

Jeannie swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Oh, Mer.” She pulled him in for a hug and marvelled at the fact that he let her, hugging back as tightly as she was.

Rodney buried his nose in the crook of her shoulder, accepting comfort in a way that he hadn't since before he left for college at far too young an age.

Jeannie's heart broke for him. She knew he was wrong. She knew that John felt the same way and as of this moment, she had a new mission on Atlantis.

She was going to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few people had asked if Dorian was maybe somehow biologically John's as well and - nope, sorry. Jeannie and I can both understand why you might have though that but - not in this story!
> 
> Also, randommindtime did some supercute art to go with Chapter 1 which can be found [HERE](http://randommindtime.tumblr.com/post/146324735638/hey-buffycuddlespigs-your-kidfic-is-adorable)


	7. Chapter 7

Between mission prep and the paperwork that was unfortunately involved in being the military leader of an expedition the size of Atlantis, John managed to avoid being left alone with Jeannie until the night before she was due to board the Deadalus for its return voyage to the Milky Way and Earth.  It hadn't been intentional, at least not _wholly_ intentional, but there had been something slightly unsettling about the way he had sometimes caught Jeannie looking at him; Rodney got a similar look on his face when there was a new shipment of chocolate on Atlantis and while John would gladly welcome Rodney looking at him like that, it was a little bit terrifying to see the look on Jeannie's face.   
  
It was even more terrifying without the buffer of Rodney or Dorian to distract Jeannie's attention.     
  
"Hey, Jeannie."  It took John only a quick glance around the too quiet room to realise that his luck had run out.     
  
They were alone.   
  
"Colonel," Jeannie smiled.    
  
John watched in apprehension as she quietly set Rodney's laptop (the one with the TARDIS sticker on the front; the one John knew he kept mostly as a repository for all the scientific papers he had waiting patiently for declassification before publishing) down on the coffee table and pat the empty space next to her.   
  
"Have a seat," she continued.  "It would be a shame to miss the opportunity to talk before I leave."   
  
The chocolate look was back on her face and the only thing that kept John from running from the room was the fact that he was a member of the United States Air Force.  He'd faced scarier things than this.   _Hadn't he?_   
  
"So..." John sat gingerly on the couch next to her, "I know Rodney's working down in the Jumper bay today, but I thought Dorian was supposed to be here with you.  I hope you haven't traded Rodney's kid.  He'd be a little put out."   
  
"Teyla offered to take him while I packed."  Jeannie pointed at the neatly stacked bags tucked in the corner when John raised his eyebrows.  "It didn't take as long as I thought."   
  
John nodded.  "Well, OK, then.  I know Rodney and Dorian will both miss you.  It was, it was really nice of you to come all this way.  I know it meant a lot to Rodney.  Even if he doesn't say it."   
  
"You're a bit of an expert at that, aren't you?" Jeannie asked.   
  
"At what?"   
  
"At seeing through Meredith's crap," she answered.  "Actually, from what I've seen this past week, you're a bit of an expert on the McKay men in general."   
  
"I don't know about that," John shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sure you know him much better than I do.  He's your family after all."   
  
"In some ways, sure," Jeannie nodded thoughtfully.  "But, if you don't think that you're every bit as much family to him as I am then you're not as smart as I thought you were, Colonel."   
  
John opened his mouth, ready to protest, and closed it again as the lie withered under Jeannie's assessing stare.   
  
"Yeah," she said, "that's what I thought."  Jeannie sighed heavily before straightening up, her expression full of resolve.  "Look, John, this isn't my place and I'm overstepping my bounds but my brother is being a complete idiot about this and....you know he's crazy about you, right?  Like, completely gone on you.  And, I may not know you well but I see the way you look at him and the way you two are together and - why are you fighting this?"   
  
John's shoulders slumped.  "You're right," he said, "I _do_ know Rodney well and what you see as him being gone on me is just, it's just gratitude that I'm helping him with Dorian.  He doesn't want me, he wants someone blonde and smart and female and - -"   
  
"I'm hearing a lot about why my brother doesn't want _you_ ," Jeannie interrupted.  "Are you admitting that you have feelings for him?  That you did something ridiculous and crazy like volunteer to platonically raise his kid with him just to keep him from leaving, to keep him from throwing his career away?"     
  
Rodney has this annoying habit of seeing into John's mind and commenting on his innermost thoughts like they were written on his face for anyone to see; anyone who was willing to look.  It's a trick that seems to run in the McKay family and, for just a second, he wonders what his life would be like without them.  Quieter, certainly.  That one second though, the sheer force of the loneliness and emptiness that he feels when contemplating a life without Rodney or Dorian ( _God, Dorian_ ), is enough to steal his breath away and John's shoulders slump in defeat.   
  
"It doesn't matter," his voice sounds thin and defeated, enough to make him clear his throat and try again.  "It doesn't matter how I feel.  Rodney is straight and - -"   
  
"Jesus Christ, you're both as bad as each other!"  Jeannie threw her hands in the air, looking so like Rodney that John couldn't help but smile. "Listen," she said, "as someone who had to have a month of therapy after walking into her brothers dorm room to find him on his hands and knees with some guys tongue in his ass - I can _promise_ you that Mer is definitely not straight."   
  
John choked on oxygen at the sudden visual.  It was ridiculous but a part of him wanted to demand to know who this guy was so he could track him down and dump him at a Wraith outpost.  The other part of him wanted to press Jeannie for more details, to ask about the noises that Rodney made and whether he liked that and a whole host of other things that it really wasn't appropriate to ask someone's sister about.   
  
Jeannie squeezed his shoulder as she stood. "Look, I'm going to pick Dorian up from Teyla's, we'll have a farewell meal and I'll have one last night with my brother and nephew and then tomorrow I'll be gone and the next time I come visit, you won't be sleeping on the couch while I stay in your bedroom.  OK?"   
  
_Jesus, she made it sound so easy,_ John thought.  If it was that easy then why had he spent the past four years miserable and wanting and - - it couldn't be that easy.   _Could it?_   
  


* * *

It wasn't that easy.   
  
"Remember what we spoke about," Jeannie had said to him in the moments before the Deadalus beamed her aboard.  When she disappeared in a flash of white that John had never really stopped thinking was the coolest thing ever, Rodney had turned to him and demanded to know what she had meant.   
  
It would have been the perfect time to confess his love, _should_ have been a perfect time to confess his love, except for the fact that they were standing in the middle of the gate room and Rodney had only had two cups of coffee that morning and John's pretty sure that at some point since his " _Rodney is gay (or at least bisexual_ )" epiphany, he's turned into the protagonist of some romantic comedy that just needs everything to be perfect before popping the question.  Not that he was planning on popping the question.  Probably.   
  
Luckily, Zelenka had radioed at that very moment to inform Rodney of some new catastrophe down in the labs which had caused Rodney to push Dorian at him and disappear for the next three days.

Before Dorian, John would have checked in on Rodney during the crisis, would have made sure that Rodney ate at least three times a day, made sure that he got at least a half-hour away from his computer screens every now and again but in a post-Dorian world, John knew where his duties lay.

It’s almost ironic that the moment he finally decides to act on his feelings for Rodney, he has to put Rodney second.  Teyla and Ronon, even Lorne, offer to look after Dorian, to give him a break (a break that he would have spent making sure Rodney was OK) but John can’t do that.  Won’t do that.

They had talked about this situation happening,  when one of their jobs would mean that they disappeared for days at a time.  The reality of it was much harder than John had ever expected.

Dorian’s accusing eyes greeted him every morning, a hopeful “Daddy?” always his first words, often followed by a more plaintive and demanding “Daddy!” as his second, third, and fourth words every morning.

John could sympathise.  He missed Rodney too.  He hated having to trust Carson to make sure that Rodney didn’t work himself into a hypoglycemic coma, hated having to explain to Dorian why his Daddy couldn’t read him a story before bed.  He hated that Rodney missed Dorian’s first attempt to dress himself.  He hated having to play the plug monster game alone.

It’s the depth of his hatred that makes him truly understand the depth of his love.

“I am happy for you,” Teyla smiles at him over breakfast on day two without Rodney.  

“You couldn’t have done something about it last Tuesday?” Ronon grunts.

John pretends to not know what they’re talking about.  

He’s not surprised that they know; he’d caught sight of himself in the mirror often enough in the past couple of days to know that he’s glowing like a damn pregnant woman.

“Happiness looks good on you,” Elizabeth says and John has to agree.  It feels good too.

Which is why it’s such a shame when it all goes to crap.

* * *

John was laughing while Rodney was dying.

He’ll always remember that.

He was in the mess hall, watching Dorian screw his nose up at the lemon cake that John was holding out to him.  

“Lemons yucky, no like,” Dorian had declared, his arms crossed in a perfect imitation of Rodney and John had laughed at how well Rodney had succeeded in vilifying citrus, even though Carson’s allergy test had come back all clear.

His laughter had caught in his throat, had choked him, as soon as he saw Elizabeth walk in.  

He doesn’t remember the run to the infirmary, it’s only later, when the danger has passed and Ronon brings an exhausted, red-eyed Dorian to the waiting room that John recalls pushing his chair back as he stands, the clatter of it falling on the cold tile of the floor, Teyla’s insistent voice telling him to go, Ronon's arms taking a suddenly crying Dorian.

“Daddy?” Dorian pleads, his voice strained and sore, telling the tale of just how scared he must have been when John had ran off without a second glance.  

“C’mere, buddy.”  John lifted him out of Ronon’s arms and wiped a stray tear from his familiar hazel eyes, feeling horribly guilty.  “Your Daddy is gonna be fine.”

It had been close.  

 _Too close_.  

Heart stoppingly close.  Literally heart stopping.  The electric current that had arched its way through Rodney’s body had stopped his heart for three minutes.

John should have known that Rodney would be too stubborn to let a little thing like 50mA of electricity coursing through his body stop him.

“Wanna see,” Dorian demanded, echoing John's feelings exactly.  “Wanna see Daddy.”

“Well, you’re in luck wee man,” Carson chose that moment to finally exit Rodney’s private room.  “He wants to see you too.”

John was through the door before Carson could even finish speaking, closing the door on everyone, too far gone to care that he was being rude.  They didn't matter.  No-one did except for Rodney.

_ Rodney. _

“There he is,” Rodney croaked.  “How’s my boy?”

“I’m doing fine," John choked back. "How are you?”

Rodney glared at him and John felt his mouth split open into a grin.  He was really OK.  Pale and exhausted looking but OK.

“OK buddy, be careful with him.”  John gently lowered Dorian on to the bed and pulled up a seat, watching carefully as Dorian plastered himself against Rodney’s chest, fisting his hand in the v of Rodney’s scrubs.

“I missed you so much, baby.” Rodney whispered into Dorian’s curls, his voice so thick with emotion that John couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Rodney’s fingers, careful to avoid the entry wound on Rodney’s palm.

Rodney’s fingers twitched, almost as if he wanted to squeeze John’s hand if only the thick white bandage wasn’t in the way.  His eyes met John’s, a little wide, a little surprised and so wonderfully alive.

“I’m gay,” John blurted.

_ “Wh- - ?” _

“I’m gay and in love with you.  And I volunteered to raise Dorian with you, Rodney.  I mean, who the he-, I mean heck,  does that unless they’re in love with that person, huh?  Aren’t you supposed to be a genius?”

Rodney opened his mouth to defend his genius and then closed it with a huff.  “Well,” he said, “you know what Einstein said.  The universe and human stupidity.”

“The only two things in the world that are infinite?”

Rodney nodded, that pleased look that he got whenever John showed a modicum of intellect on his face.

John smiled back, tangling his fingers in Rodney’s own.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I can think of at least one other thing.”

Rodney’s eyes widened as John leaned closer, his breath caught as John’s lips brushed against his.  

_ Gentle.   _

_ Chaste.   _

_ Perfect. _

Perfection was redefined as John opened his mouth and swallowed Rodney’s moan, tasting it on his tongue and - -

“Daddy! Joh’!  Bored.”

Rodney laughed into John’s mouth, his mouth twitching up at the corners and breaking the kiss.  John groaned as he rested his head on Rodney’s shoulder.  

“You’re killing me here, buddy.”  He moved to sit on Rodney’s bed, pulling Dorian onto his lap.  “Right, Mr Bored.  How about we tell Daddy what a clever boy you are and how you got dressed all by yourself today.”

Dorian started to excitedly babble at Rodney and John smiled as Rodney made all the right noises.

When Dorian squirmed off of John’s lap to demonstrate how he could pull his jumper off now, Rodney nudged John’s shoulder.  “Still infinite?” he asked with a nod at the adorable little pest.

John smiled and shifted so that his arm fell across Rodney’s shoulders, settling in to watch the show (at least until he had to rescue Dorian from the inside of his jumper).  

“Yeah” he said.  “Still infinite.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue that might actually make you throw up because it's so cutesy. I apologise in advance.

The sheet of paper really should have felt heavier, or more substantial, or be made of plated gold.  Something, _anything_ , to signify how important it was, how much it meant.

This was the most important piece of paper that Rodney would ever hold.   _Well_ , Rodney corrected his thoughts as he worried the gold band on his left ring finger, _the second most important_.

“Now, Daddy?” Dorian’s curls peeked out from his place behind the door.  The McKay impatience really did seem to be hereditary but the manipulative pout that Dorian pulled out when Rodney told him to wait for the signal was all John.

Twelve months, an entire year, of watching Dorian grow and every now and then, he could still take Rodney’s breath away with nothing more than a petted lip, an arch of the eyebrow or a cock of the head.  If nothing else, having a kid had secured his side in the nature vs nurture debate forever.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside and Rodney flapped his hand frantically at Dorian, ushering him back into hiding.

“Rodney?” John knocked lightly on the door to the lab before walking in.  

Rodney rolled his eyes, irritated despite his best intentions.  “You do know that knocking and then walking straight in is pointless, right?”

John smiled, completely disregarding the momentary scowl on Rodney’s face as he pressed close and kissed the side of Rodney’s mouth in greeting before swinging himself on to the desk, legs kicking the air.

It drew Rodney’s mind back to the last time they were in these labs, when John had sat in the exact same position.   He wonders if John remembers that this is the very same lab that he convinced Rodney to be a father in.

Rodney shook himself.  There was no time for nostalgia; not when there was a two and a half year old toddler whose patience was the approximate length of his fingerspan waiting.

“Right.” Rodney just managed to stop from clapping his hands together, suddenly mindful of the pre-arranged signal.  “Well, thank you for coming.  I..uh, I mean, that is..”

“Rodney,” John grabbed at his jacket lapel and pulled him forward, settling Rodney in the vee of his legs.  “Why am I here?  Of all places.”

“You remember?” Rodney asked, surprised.

“It’s not a conversation that I’m likely to forget,” John nosed his way up the skin of Rodney’s neck.  “You scared me for a minute before you finished your freak out back then.”

Rodney felt himself bristle.  He hated to be reminded of the fact that he hadn’t immediately embraced fatherhood.  He knew by the way that John’s hands drifted up his sides that he could feel the tension in his body, that he was about to start doing what had proven very successful in the past to combat that tension.

Rodney coughed, stepping back as John’s hand grazed the top of his ass.  This was definitely not the time or place for that.  Not with Dorian behind the door (if he hadn’t wandered away by now) or that piece of paper burning a hole in his pocket.

“Here,” Rodney thrust the paper into John’s hand, derailing the pout that was starting to form. “Maybe now you’ll understand why we had to be here for this.”

John reads the paper and Rodney can see the exact moment when he realises what’s happening.

“Rodney…” John’s voice is breathless, his eyes wide and crystal clear like they usually only get when someone is shooting at his team.  “Are you sure?”

“Well, I don’t know..Dorian?  Are we sure?”  Rodney clapped his hands together and prayed that all their practising had stuck, relief crashing down on him when Dorian sprang out from behind the door and launched himself at John.

“I’m sure, Dada,” Dorian said, looking up at John like he was his entire world.   _Well, half his world at least._

John looked bowled over, his throat convulsing as he tried to choke back whatever unmanly emotion was threatening to overwhelm him.  “ _I...I - god - I - -_ “

“For goodness sake, just sign the bit of paper,” Rodney bumped John’s shoulder fondly as he handed him a pen, rolling his eyes as John grabbed at it and almost tore the paper in his haste to make it official.

It was done.  As easy as that.

In the same room that, a year ago to the day, he had convinced Rodney that he could be a father, John Sheppard became the official adopted parent of Dorian Peter McKay-Sheppard.

“Happy?” Rodney asked, feeling proud and slightly misty eyed.

John took Rodney’s hand, his thumb stroking across the engraved symbol on his wedding band.

Smiling, he answered.

“Infinitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE DONE!!! This is by far and away the longest single piece of writing I have ever managed and a massive, heartfelt thanks to those of you that left kind comments and spurred me on to finish this.
> 
> Just one last thing....there will definitely be some future timestamps in this 'verse because I just don't know when to say quit.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this as a WIP because I'd really appreciate some feedback - I'm super new to this fandom and writing McShep so any comments would be much appreciated.
> 
> Also, come say hi on [tumblr](http://buffycuddlespigs.tumblr.com/ask) if you want to!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Universe and Human Stupidity [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926013) by [librarychick_94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarychick_94/pseuds/librarychick_94)
  * [Rodney & Dorian McKay [ft. John] (Fan Art & Podfic Cover)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926811) by [randommindtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randommindtime/pseuds/randommindtime)




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